


Reborn from ice and water

by Tobis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, My First Fanfic, Slow Build, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 16:06:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobis/pseuds/Tobis
Summary: Reborn into the world of magic, M-48 must learn to relive life as a child and survive the harsh life as not only a test subject but also a magical with unknown parentage. Using the knowledge and wisdom from his previous life, M-48 will have to be creative if he is to survive past adolescence with forces from both the dark and light after his head and overly clingy school mates.Slow to Update





	Reborn from ice and water

It started with the feeling of nothing; no sight, no sound, not even the tiniest sensation of touch. For what felt like the longest time I was trapped in the nothingness of nothing. I had no notion of where I was and only vague, distant memories of before the nothing. 

I remember the cold and biting wind, rugged mountains, vast plains and rolling hillsides that when standing atop, you could look for miles in any direction and see the endless green country. Crisp snow would cake the land like a white carpet and turn into wet slush before giving rise to the new green growth. Rivers and streams with the clearest of water would gouge into the terrain as the earth suddenly drops, forming various cliffs and ravines. I had been born and grown in the isolation of nature with a few people I had vague recollections of, I could still remember the elderly couple I had lived with all my life even if I couldn’t remember their names or faces.

An older lady I had called Oma as she insisted, had spoken in seven different languages and would drag Opa and me out before sunrise to go and climb the nearby hills to greet the sun every morning. Much like her husband, Oma liked to switch languages often to the frustration of those less linguistically gifted who had to listen to her speak for hours on end about “the Old country” where she had grown. She had also enjoyed mountain climbing even in her advanced age and took great delight in dragging us with her, Opa often grumbling about wanting to stay at home and work in his garden but coming along anyway.

We had lived in a sizeable single-story house made by Opa in his younger years; the windows had been hand made from recycled wine bottles that shone like stain glass windows in the summer sun. I remember that he had been a very clever man even when time started to eat away at his mind. The house sat about an hours drive outside a small farming town with a total population of 153 except July to December when most kids left for boarding school. A large apple orchard and garden surrounded the house, keeping it self sufficient for the colder winter months.

I had been all alone in that house towards the end but had found myself unwilling to leave the only home I had ever known for any long periods; It had only been the three of us in that house. If there had ever been any other family, then I had never met or heard from them even after their funerals.

Drifting through my memories as a distraction from the nothing made me feel strangely detached, I wasn’t sure if I should be disturbed at my lack of feeling. Surely I should be kicking and screaming about the unfairness of my situation or feel at least some frustration at the lack of information as to why I was here. So I continued to drift in the nothingness with only my thoughts and memories to engage me. 

Eventually, I started to feel the bearest sensations of a tingle along what I thought was either my hand or foot, it was hard to tell after so long. The tingle was a welcome distraction from the nothing and over time started to occur on other parts of my body starting at my limbs and progressing around my torso and head. 

With the tingling came a sound, a deep and distant Bu-dumb Bu-dumb Bu-dumb. It was annoying and distracting at first, but slowly, I found comfort in the constant noise. Occasionally if I listened hard, I could hear what sounded like the muffled voices of someone talking far away in another room.

I could feel and hear again, it was such a strange feeling that I almost didn’t notice when I started being able to jiggle my legs a bit. Over time I began to gain more function with my body, feeling and doing more as time progressed. While the action itself was tiring, I took every opportunity to move my legs and kick until I felt my foot connect with something that had the consistency of a squishy elastic wall. 

‘…That's new…’ I thought as I continued to try and feel some more of the strange squishy wall.

I spent more time investigating the squishy wall which if I kicked just right would quiver and contract before relaxing. I had taken great joy in investigating this wall and making it move with each of my kicks. Eventually, I was able to feel the wall spanning around and behind me in what I assumed would be a box, however, I felt no corners or edges. It felt more like a squishy sack.

Over time, sensations came more easily, and I could hear the voices next door more clearly and more often now, even if I couldn’t make out what they were saying. My sense of touch had become more developed and yet I found that I was still unable to see or open my eyes. Occasionally, however, I would feel a strange tingly feeling pass over me from the squishy walls. 

This tingly feeling seemed to be different from my sense of touch and made me want to squirm about. It was like nothing I had ever felt before when I had been alive, it felt almost like an electric current wrapping around. Curious to this new occurrence, I found myself trying to investigate this strange tingly energy that seemed to move around like it had a life of its own. However, with how limited my movement was, I was very restricted in how much I could investigate.

This, however, did lead me to find what felt like a similar energy down in my navel. If felt almost like a flutter of power rather than the tingly electrical current and a lot weaker in comparison. I had only noticed the warm, fluttery feeling as it had not been there before. While I could vaguely feel it, it was not as distinct or noticeable as the tingly electrical feeling from the squishy walls, and I found that I couldn’t do much with it. However, like with my senses, I was able to feel more and more of these energies over time.

With little else to do, I continued to kick at the walls and investigate the new sensation down in my navel. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Time passed slowly even with the addition of my new senses, however, the longer I spent in the elastic sack room, the smaller it seemed to get. Eventually, every movement I made would connect with the squishy wall until I barely had any room to move at all. Worry began to eat at me the longer I stayed in my squishy prison. I still had no way of knowing how much time had passed, nor If any help would come in the future. 

Kicking at the walls had proven ineffective only resulting in the occasional muffled voice and curious probing from the strange energy. Screaming had proved to be no help either as my voice just refused to produce any sound. This left me with very little to do apart from wait while my prison grew smaller and smaller. The only thing available to distract me from my situation was the tingly energy swirling around in my navel. 

It was whilst I was trying to poke the energy in hopes of getting it to move when I felt the walls suddenly contract and squeeze me painfully. I panicked and tried to thrash around, my heart racing in my chest. Maybe if I moved around enough, I would rip the bag and escape, but no sooner than when I started thrashing the walls suddenly relaxed and I had space to move and breathe if only a little.

I started squirming in discomfort and trying to feel the walls around me, but they had the same squishy elastic feel that they had before. Almost too soon the squeezing choking sensation returned, I could do nothing as the walls kept squeezing and relaxing rhythmically again and again around me. It was agony feeling my body be crushed and felt myself wanting to scream; it was so unpleasant. The sensation continued for the longest time until the squeezing would not stop. It felt like I was slowly being pressed out of a toothpaste tube.

When I thought I would pass out from the crushing squeezing pain, suddenly the warmth was replaced with biting cold, the sensation hit me hard, and I felt my self screaming out in alarm. The sound came next, It was deafening and all around me.

The sound of people yelling as they rushed around and a shrill screaming cry. It was hard to place at first with all the new sensations, but it sounded like what I imagined to be a babies cry. Everything was so loud, and something cold was holding me and harshly probing at my body. I tried to scream for it to stop, but the only thing that came out was more of that wailing baby scream…

‘…oh’ I thought to myself; ‘…the screaming was coming from me’.

Upon this realisation, I tried to calm my self down and think logically, as my Opa had always said there was no point in running around screaming like a headless chicken. The thought comforted me and while I could not stop my screaming, I was able to quieten some and slowly open my eyes.

Everything was blurry, and there was very little detail that I could make out, I had to blink my eyes due to the discomfort. The light was far too bright, and the room was very white; above me was a gigantic blurry shadow that seemed to be cradling me in its far too large arms and probing my torso with its cold fingers. 

Everywhere those fingers touched the tingly electric current from in the womb passed through me, probing me and making me want to squirm and coo at the unusual feeling. The shadow paused in its examination and ran a finger over my stomach, making me giggle and squirm at the electric sensation much to my embarrassment. After another pause, the finger returned and ran down my stomach again but lacked the electric feeling this time. The shadow hummed again, and I had the sense that it was pleased with whatever it had found. At this point, I was so exhausted that I almost missed the shadow turning and talking to someone before holding me against its chest and turning to leave. Resting against the chest swaddled in what felt like a thin towel, I determined that the shadow must be male and that it had the same comforting Ba-dumb ba-dumb sound from in the womb. 

Slowly I felt myself relaxing and drifting off as we moved away from the sounds of people yelling and rushing about the room. One voice, in particular, seemed to be louder than the others and kept repeating the same sounds over and over again, but I was too exhausted to care. Just before I shut my eyes, there was a flash of green light and the yelling stopped, the sound of something hitting the floor. I was too tired though and fell asleep to the rhythmic heartbeat and swaying motion as the shadow carried me out of the room and down the hall. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

I drifted in and out of sleep for what must have felt like a while but was not awake enough to be aware of what was happening around me. When I next awoke fully, I found myself lying in an old wooden baby crib with only a thin blanket which did little to warm my body. The air around me was chilled to the point of borderline unpleasantness, but I still felt myself shiver from the sensation. Not only was I feeling the cold, but the scratchiness of the blanket I was swaddled in left me squirming about in discomfort. What I assume to be months of residing in the warm squishy sack that I now understand to be a womb had left me sensitive to the outside environment.

I debated which was worse; the cold or the itchy, scratchy feeling reminding me vaguely of a time I had fallen into a patch of stinging nettles as a child. Eventually, the itchiness outweighed the cold as I struggled and squirmed about, trying to escape my scratchy prison. With great effort and more time than I was proud of, I managed to escape.

‘VICTORY!!!’ I thought to my self, panting in exertion and muscles aching from the effort.

I laid there, basking in my small accomplishment. While it didn’t seem like much, I remembered that babies didn’t move around all that much for the first few months after they were born. Lying there tired from my exertions, I stopped to think and observe the room around me.

‘I had been reborn…’ I thought to myself. Never before had I imagined that reincarnation was an actual thing, let alone something to happen to me. When I had been alive (or in my previous life now as it would seem) I had been agnostic not believing or disbelieving of the supernatural or god. None of us in our family had been overly religious, but Oma did like to carry her rosary beads with her as they had been her mothers before her. Now I was in the body of a newborn baby, a boy at that from the new protrusion I could feel between my legs.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about my change in gender, but at least now, I wouldn’t have to worry about the monthly cramps and bleeding. Having a penis would also make peeing a whole lot more convenient despite the awkward changes I would face during puberty. This, however, I decided to leave for later to contemplate when I could actually move around and investigate the changes to my body.

While my sight was still blurry, I could make out the dark wooden walls of the crib surrounding me and the high patchy grey ceiling above me. While my eyesight wasn’t good enough yet to make out anything else, I was able to hear well enough to recognise that I was not alone in the room.

Concentrating, I was able to make out the sounds of what I assumed to be other infants around me, their whimpering and soft cries assuring me that I was not the only one feeling the cold. Listening further, I could hear the telltale sounds of turning pages and a soft clink of cup meeting saucer. I waited to see (or hear) if the person would get up to answer the muffled cries from the crib next to me. After a while, they still didn’t move from their spot across the room. 

‘How could they not hear it?’ I thought to myself as I continued to listen out for movement, the wailing still muffled but seeming to get louder. Having enough, I decided to let out my own cry to try to get what I assumed to be the neglectful adult's attention.

“WWWHHHAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”

After what felt like a few minutes, I felt my throat start to ache and the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. I could hear the footsteps coming closer. Continuing my whimpering and wailing, I squirmed about trying to express my discomfort.

The person stood and looked at me for a while an annoyed scowl across her face and her long curly brown hair draping across her shoulders; then raising their arm, the woman pointed at me what seemed to be a long stick. Perplexed at this I continued to observe the blurry figure, had I not been watching I may not have seen it.

Pointing the stick at me, she said: “dolor aculeus” (1). Suddenly almost too fast to see, a faint-thread like pale red light travelled all the way down from her chest through her arm and down to the stick only to shoot out a bluish-white light out the end and hit me in the shoulder.

I suddenly wailed at the unexpected pain to my shoulder and started to thrash about in alarm. It felt a hundred times worse than that of the itchy blanket. Like getting at least a dozen bee stings to the same spot. My shoulder started to swell where the light had hit as I continued to cry even after the initial stinging pain had left. 

Hearing what could only be described as a sadistic giggle of laughter, I looked up above me, tears streaming down my face. The shadowy woman stood there looking down at me and laughed at my pain. Seeming to have had their fun, they pointed the stick back towards me.

I involuntarily flinched which seemed to please them as they let out another giggle. “Silencio” she said, and I watched transfixed as the faint-thread like pale red light travelled through them and into the stick releasing this time a flash of pure white light. 

Immediately the sound around me disappeared, I could no longer hear the baby crying next to me or the person above me. Still in pain with my swollen stinging shoulder, I continued to cry as the person above me turned and left. 

A flash of pale blue and then white appeared near where I thought the wailing babies crib to be and I knew that they had received the same attention. Laying there in pain, I continued to cry, my throat sore and almost horse from use. I had never known anyone to be that cruel, it made me wonder what kind of situation I had been born into where people tortured babies with magical glowing sticks. 

Strangely enough, after the silence, I could feel a strange tingly sensation similar to when the “Shadow” had held me just after my birth. However, this felt strangely more caustic and unpleasant, that combined with the pain and the cold seeping into my bones left me falling into an uneasy fitful sleep.

__________________________________________________________________________________

The next day was thankfully spent with "Shadow", I had awoken from my poor sleep to being picked up and cradled against his warm chest. I hated that my eyesight was so blurry, and while it had certainly improved since my “birth” enough that I could now make out peoples faces at a close distance, it was still a far cry from what I had been used to. 

He was a tall, gangly man from as far as I could tell and had long dirty blond hair tied up in a ponytail. His skin was pale, and his face was angular and somewhat thin. Cradled in his chest, I could feel that his hands were quite cold and concentrating hard I could feel the tingly electric energy thrumming in his chest.

While my shoulder still stung a little, the swelling felt like it had disappeared completely. While cold, his heartbeat electric energy was such a comfort that I would have fallen asleep again had he not placed me on a cold hard surface. While unpleasant, the room wasn’t nearly as cold as the ‘nursery’. However, I still felt the need to whimper and flail my arms about wanting to be picked back up.

He chuckled at this and poked at my belly, sending the tingly feeling through me and making me giggle. For the next hour or so, he would poke and prod at different parts of my body sometimes inciting the tingly feeling and sometimes not. Each time he would write something down on the clipboard, I had not noticed before continuing his examination. 

This near-constant tickling had the unfortunate effect of stimulating my muscles, causing my bladder to release much to my disgust. It seemed like it would be a while yet before I would be able to control my bodily functions. 

I looked up as the man sighed above me, instantly I felt my embarrassment increase tenfold as I realised that not only had I been incontinent, but I was also butt naked in front of a complete stranger despite him being present at my birth. He tsked and turned to retrieve something from the table with all his notes while I squirmed in discomfort at the wet sensation slowly cooling over my body.

When he turned around, I felt myself panic at the sight of a long stick in his hand pointed at me. Almost absent-mindedly, he started swishing and flicking the stick at me too fast for me to react. Like before light travelled from his chest all the way down to the stick. However, his colour was more of a mix of green and pinky purple before shooting out as white light. He also seemed to not need to say anything for the light show to work. 

This time instead of pain, I had the sensation of runny gel running over my whole body, removing the dirty feeling and replacing it with a refreshing minty sensation. I couldn’t stop my giggle at the feeling despite the fear I felt. However, the smell of urine had disappeared, which I was somewhat thankful for. 

While I was contemplating this, the man had returned with a trolly and what appeared to be several glass bottles if judging by the clinking noise they were making.

He picked up a bottle that as far as I could see with my poor vision, was neon pink in colour. As he approached, I felt tense as he brought out the stick again. While he didn’t seem to be as malicious as the person from last night, I was still wary about the stick. He, however, ignored me and opened the glass then waved the stick along the top, causing the neon pink liquid to disappear.

‘…Wha?’ I thought dumbfounded to myself, my brain short-circuiting.

Ignoring me further, “Shadow” brought the stick over my stomach before giving it a twirl and tapping it firmly against my skin. The same light show from earlier occurred with the added effect of my belly briefly glowing a dull blue. Then the knawing sharp pain in my stomach that I didn't realise I had was replaced by the sensation of fullness. 

It was hard to believe that I had forgotten the sensation of hunger, however seeing that I hadn’t felt hungry since before my death and subsequent reincarnation. It wasn't unreasonable to assume that the constant feeding in the womb had left me somewhat desensitised to the hunger or that I had been fed similarly while I had been asleep. I continued to ponder this making note that it may be something to look out for in future if I couldn’t redevelop the instinctive feeling.

As he continued to feed me, somehow transferring the liquid directly into my stomach, I continued to watch him and observe the whitish-blue light emanating down his arm. It seemed that every time he used his stick, the light would travel from the same point in his chest down his arm before exiting through the said stick. Continuing to observe, I noticed that even when not actively using the light, a faint outline could sometimes be seen thrumming like a heartbeat in his chest.

Eventually, however, the activities of the day must have been too much for my infantile body as the comfortable sensation of a full belly and exhaustion had left me drifting off to sleep again. It wasn’t until later that I would be kicking myself for not putting two and two together.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) dolor aculeus – Latin translation for Pain and Sting, there was no incantation for the Stinging Hex. If anyone has a better incantation, please let me know.

**Author's Note:**

> 10 points to whoever guesses the main characters original country of birth.  
Am open to suggestions, this story may develop later into a crossover, but it will be as a separate 2 part story.  
not Beta edited


End file.
